Thrilling Thirteen

by Ponzo, Gary

  Nick made his way to the desk and reached over to shake the Sheriff’s hand. “My name’s Nick. This is Matt, Ed, Carl, Dave, Mel, and Don. I think you know why we’re here.”

  “I have a pretty good idea,” the Sheriff said.

  Nick pointed and the men let the heavy bags drop to the floor in the back of the room. Carl Rutherford closed the door and assisted in unloading rifles, magazines full of rounds, video and audio equipment, and laptop computers.

  The Sheriff squinted at the sight. “What’s all that about?”

  “Just setting up shop,” Nick said.

  “Now hold on. I told your boss I’d help you out, but I didn’t think you were gonna take the place over.”

  No one paid any attention to the Sheriff. They kept to their task while Nick spread a map of Arizona across Skrugs’ desk. Matt and Dave Tanner bent over the map with Nick and began the process of familiarizing themselves with the area. Agent Steele poked her head over Matt’s shoulder and Nick encouraged her to participate.

  “Please,” Nick said, “could you mark the Sheriff’s office for us?”

  Steele pulled a pencil from a plastic cylinder on the desk and began examining the map.

  “We’ll need at least a half a dozen more men, Sheriff,” Nick said.

  “Just a doggone minute,” Skrugs bellowed. “I never offered any manpower from my office, ’cause we just can’t spare it right now.”

  “Sheriff,” Nick said in a tight voice, “we’re fairly certain that the headquarters for the Kurdish terrorists is in this area. We have until 9 PM to find them, or there’s a good chance that the White House will be history. Does that help in the motivation department?”

  The room became quiet while Sheriff Skrugs leaned sideways in his chair, looked down, and dropped a long, juicy, strip of chewing tobacco into the Styrofoam cup. When he sat up, he seemed to enjoy the awkward gap in the conversation. He smiled a brown smile. “I’m going to tell you something, Mr. Special Agent. There’s an election in a few weeks and I’m going to be reelected to protect and serve the fine people of Gila County. Now your job and my responsibilities may not coincide, but that won’t prevent me from assisting you. It’s just that I have a manhunt going on at the moment and I’m not willing to spare my deputies for a wild goose chase.”

  “It’s not a wild goose chase, Sheriff.”

  “No, huh? If this is so important to the President, then how come I see only a handful of FBI agents instead of a platoon of Marines?”

  Nick folded his arms. He could see that logic wasn’t going to play a big part in the proceeding, so he decided to lower himself down to the proper level. “That’ s a nice truck you have out there.”

  Skrugs turned his head suspiciously while boring a hole into Nick’s eyes. “Thank you.”

  “It’s a Special Edition, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Must’ve been expensive.”

  “Thirty-thousand dollars,” Skrugs said flatly.

  “Thirty-one thousand, five-hundred and twelve, to be exact. And you paid cash.”

  Skrugs’ eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you come right out and tell me what you’re getting at?”

  Nick looked around at the office, sizing it up for potential. “If you can’t spare any men, fine. At least allow us the liberty of using your office as a command post and stay out of our way.”

  Skrugs drooled another strip of tobacco into his cup. “Don’t play games with me, Special Agent. What’s the truck thing all about?”

  “We’ll need more detailed maps and I had a list of newly purchased homes faxed here from the county records department. Can you locate that for us?”

  Now the Sheriff was on his feet and getting up into Nick’s face. Matt and Dave Tanner each pulled an arm and wrestled Skrugs back into his chair. Nick stretched his arms out across the desk and leaned over. His tone was dead serious. “I don’t need any more friends, Sheriff. Get the paperwork I requested, then you can get the fuck out of here and chase down your horse thief, or whoever you’re protecting your citizens from.”

  “All right, all right,” Skrugs shook off the two agents flanking him. “There’s no reason to get all riled up about this.”

  Nick stood upright and nodded. “Good. I’m glad you see it our way.”

  Skrugs stood and reached for his belt hanging from a hook on a wall behind his desk, but he was blocked by Matt. The belt was abnormally wide and contained his holstered gun and radio. Matt gave Nick a look and Nick held up a hand signaling him to allow the Sheriff to get his belt. As Skrugs strapped it around his plump waist, he said, “There’s no need for any lists.”

  “Why’s that,” Nick said, warily.

  “Because,” Skrugs said, adjusting his belt, “I already know where they are.”

  Chapter 30

  Nick and Matt waited in the parking lot while Skrugs was inside drawing a map to the terrorist’s hideout. Matt loaded a backup .38 snub and stood in the cold with his pant leg pulled up, exposing his ankle holster. Nick tore open a small aluminum pouch, then walked toward the Sheriff’s truck and came back empty-handed.

  “What are you doing?” Matt asked.

  “I don’t trust that guy.”

  “Why? He’s giving us what we want.”

  “Exactly. One minute it’s a wild goose chase, the next minute he knows where they are.”

  “You have something on him?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Then what’s with him paying cash for the truck?”

  “I don’t know. The records showed that he paid cash. I just threw it out there to see how he would react.”

  “And?”

  “He acted a little defensive—didn’t he?”

  They returned to the Sheriff’s inner office and Nick found Skrugs explaining the best angle of approach to Jennifer Steele. He was waving his arms while giving directions to the resident agent. Steele was in rapture, absorbing her function as the guide. Because of her knowledge of the area, she would be in the lead and therefore on the front line. The other three agents had their gear strapped over their shoulders and were in different stages of prepping their weapons.

  Nick motioned the rest of the team to file out, but yanked Silk’s arm as he passed. “Hang on, I need you for a minute.”

  Silk stood silently next to Matt and Steele as Nick approached the Sheriff. “You’re not coming with us?”

  “Sorry, Chief, but I’ve got a child-killer on the loose and I need to bang on some doors to get some information.”

  “How certain are you of this location?”

  “I’m telling you,” Skrugs huffed, “this is where they are. There’s too much suspicious activity going on with that cabin. The phone company shut off the service to the new owner and I’ve never seen anyone leave the premises, yet there are fresh tire marks all over the backside of the property. I went fishing on a narrow strip of the river a couple of miles west of there and heard all kinds of engine noise. When I headed up the hill toward the cabin, the noises stopped. As I got closer I noticed a large tarp covering several vehicles and no sign of anyone living there. When I touched the hood of one of the vehicles, it was warm. Until you guys showed up, I just never put it all together.”

  Nick nodded. It sounded just a tad rehearsed for his taste. “That’s fine. Just let us have the keys to a couple of cars and we’ll—”

  “No can do, Chief. I’ve got everyone available on this manhunt. You’re going to have to get there the same way you got here.”

  Nick clenched his fists.

  Matt said, “Are you telling us that you’re not going with us and you can’t even lend us one stinking vehicle?”

  Skrugs looked at the two federal agents. His resolve seemed to temper. “Okay, okay.” He removed a set of keys from a nail on the wall next to his desk. “I’ll take my truck, you take my personal cruiser. It’s the only vehicle we’ve got left. It needs some engine work, but it’ll get you where you need to go.” He looked at his watch.
“I’m late, boys. Gotta find me a killer.”

  After Skrugs left, Steele said, “Now do you know what I mean?”

  Nick stood there with his arms still folded, shaking his head in disgust.

  Steele looked back and forth between Nick and Matt, then settled on the keys in Nick’s hand. “How do you want to split us up?”

  Nick handed the keys to Silk and pulled a device from his pocket that resembled a pocket calculator. “Here,” he said, “take the cruiser and use this to track down the Sheriff.”

  Silk looked down at the device, puzzled.

  “It’s a GPS system. I planted a transmitter under the Sheriff’s truck. Give him a five minute head start, then find out where he went.”

  “Hey wait a minute,” Steele said. “You’re going to waste a vehicle spying on the Sheriff?”

  Matt nodded with understanding. “It’s an insurance policy. We’re better off using one vehicle anyway. It’s less conspicuous.”

  “An insurance policy?”

  Nick wrote something on the back of his business card and handed it to Silk. “This is my cell phone number. Call me as soon as you know where he is and what he’s doing.”

  Silk frowned. “I didn’t come all the way out here to play—”

  “I know what you’re here for,” Nick said. “And you’ll get your chance, I promise. But right now we need to find out who we can trust.” Nick jabbed a finger into Silk’s chest. “You, I trust. It’s everyone else that I’m worried about.”

  Silk took the compliment to heart and grinned. “Whatever you say, Boss.”

  Nick showed Silk how to read the GPS system, then sent him on his way. Nick rounded up the team behind the building and had everyone test their headsets to assure communications were functioning properly. Since Steele didn’t have a headset, she was instructed to stay close to Matt. This didn’t seem to bother either agent.

  Nick motioned Steele to brief them on their route.

  With the professional look of a surgeon about to go into the operating room, Steele held up a map with a black line meandering through a densely wooded area. “Just past mile marker 78, we’ll veer left onto a dirt road for about three or four miles.” She looked at Rutherford, Downing, Tanner, and Tolliver. “Stay down in the back of the truck. The dirt road is a popular path for hunters, so three of us in the cab doesn’t necessarily cause any suspicion.” She pointed to a black line perpendicular to the truck’s route. “At this juncture, we’ll unload the gear and travel the rest of the way on foot. About another mile.” She looked up and to the west. “The sun’s going down in another hour and a half so that should give us enough time to position ourselves.”

  She looked at the group and said, “Any questions?”

  “Yeah,” Carl Rutherford said, “are you single?”

  Matt momentarily glared at Rutherford.

  “For you, Agent Rutherford,” Steele deadpanned, “I’m happily married with twelve kids.”

  A few snickers followed Rutherford’s put-down. It was a nervous laughter that Nick recognized as a release of tension. All eyes migrated his direction and he suddenly felt like a football coach needing a halftime speech. “All right,” he said, “I don’t want any heroics. We do our job and get out. When we get to the perimeter, Carl and Ed have the backside, Matt and Jennifer are the snipers.”

  Nick looked at Dave Tanner. “You have the Halothane mixture?”

  Tanner tapped the duffle bag tugging on his shoulder. “Ready to go.”

  “When I give the cue, Dave will launch the gas through a window on the second floor. The gas is heavier than oxygen so it will settle all the way down to the basement. Thirty seconds later he and I will enter the building wearing the body suits. Our primary goal is to locate the detonator, then get Carl in there to disable the unit. Everyone know their roles?”

  A cluster of nods.

  “Good.”

  Matt seized the opportunity to inject some inspiration. He regarded each agent in turn, snapped shut the clip of his Glock and added, “Let’s show them what a predator really is.”

  Hopped up on adrenalin, the team ran around the building. Rutherford and Tanner nearly banged heads jumping into the back of Steele’s truck. Nick was in the cab again with Matt. Steele drove north with the setting sun sprinkling shadows of tall pines across the hood of the truck. She nodded ahead to a roadblock that caused a backup of several cars. “Do you want to wait?”

  Nick saw that it was only three cars ahead of them. “Yes, wait.”

  When it was their turn, a DPS officer spied the foursome prone in the back of the truck. His right hand went for his gun, but he hesitated when he saw who was driving. “Jennifer? What’s going on here?”

  She pointed to her cab mates. “This is Matt McColm and Nick Bracco. All six of these guys are FBI Special Agents from Baltimore. They’re on loan to us until we resolve this KSF issue.”

  The officer nudged his hat up a bit and looked at Matt and Nick. “You think they’re in the area?”

  “We suspect,” Nick said. “Have you seen anything suspicious?”

  The officer shrugged. “A few hunters without permits. Several DUIs. No one that could pass for a terrorist though.”

  Nick handed him a business card. “You come across anything, have dispatch put you through to me directly.”

  The officer nodded, then backed up and waved the vehicle through the roadblock.

  “He’s a good cop,” Steele said.

  “I’m jealous,” Matt quipped. But by the look on his face, Nick could tell he immediately regretted saying it. Steele let it hang there unnoticed. The only refuge for Matt was the slight widening of her lips into the tiniest of smiles.

  Nick’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “Bracco.”

  Walt Jackson’s voice had an upbeat tone. Nick thought he was either delirious from stress, or he actually had reason for hope. “Tell me something good,” Jackson said.

  Nicks gaze drifted west. An orange haze lingered over the mountainous peaks. “Well, the Arizona sunsets are beautiful.”

  A snort of laughter. “That’s what I like about you, Nick. You never give up more than you have to. I have some good news for you, however. We found the missiles.”

  “You did?”

  “Not me personally, of course,” Jackson said. “Dolphins, actually. The Navy’s got these dolphins trained to search for underwater mines, bombs, missiles. They’re pretty darn good at it too. Apparently there’s an offshore oil rig that was thought abandoned, but when they sent the dolphins in, they found silos disguised as drilling devices.”

  “That’s great news, Walt. I guess we’re just here to find Kharrazi then?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Why’s that.”

  “I said they found the silos, I didn’t say they disarmed the missiles in them.”

  “What are you talking about? Can’t they just destroy the silos?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Well, explain it to me like I’m a third-grader, because I’m not understanding.”

  “I don’t understand it fully myself, but according to General Hitchcock there are seven silos spread out across an acre of ocean floor. All of them contain missiles that are less than two minutes airtime away from the White House. It appears that they’re all wired together somehow and if one silo is destroyed, the other six automatically detonate. The entire area is booby-trapped. Navy Seals are down there right now working on it, but it’s evening here and they’re moving very cautiously. They think they can have it disabled in about twelve hours. And that’s just one of them.

  “Pretty remarkable technology at play here. I can’t tell you now, but you’ll be amazed when you hear who actually built these things.”

  “What about shooting them down once they’re airborne?”

  “That’s what they intend to do. The problem is, the missiles will be armed with countermeasures. Hitchcock feels at least one or two will make it to its target.”

  “So
we really don’t have a handle on it.”

  “No, we don’t. What’s going on out there? Do you have any good leads?”

  “We’re on our way to check one out right now.”

  “How good is it?”

  Nick could sense Matt and Steele listening in on the conversation and the last thing he wanted to do was dampen any enthusiasm for the mission. “I’ll let you know in about forty-five minutes.”

  Steele swerved the truck onto a dirt road and Nick wasn’t ready for the turn. He jerked up against the door and let out a low, “Umph.”

  “Are you all right?” Jackson asked.

  “I’m fine.” The truck was hopping furiously over the bumpy trail. Nick heard Steele comment on her desire to get away from the road as quickly as possible.

  “Listen, Nick,” Jackson’s voice took on a fatherly tone. “I don’t want you guys taking any unnecessary risks. I mean there’s a faction of the administration that feels you’re, well, sort of—”

  “What?” Nick demanded.

  “There’s a sentiment growing that you’re wound a little tight right now and maybe not thinking clearly. For one thing, Julie was just the object of an attempted murder and you’re flying across the country the next day.”

  “Wait a minute. I thought Riggs was the one rubberstamping this thing?”

  “Riggs will support you right up until the moment you’re proven wrong. Then you will see him backpedal into the sweetest little soft-shoe of deniability you’ve ever seen. Besides, you’ve got to admit your information is more than a little tainted.”

  Nick sat quiet for a moment, allowing Jackson to finish his case. When he was satisfied the scrutiny had ended, he said, “And what about you?”

  There was a pause. “After all is said and done, I trust you. That’s why I’m telling you not to take any chances. I don’t want you going off half-cocked trying to prove a point. If you get sight of a hot location, you call me and I’ll get a SWAT team up there immediately. Otherwise . . .” Jackson let the thought play out tacitly.

  “Otherwise, we’re on our own,” Nick finished.

  The silence was as good as shouting, “Yes!”